Shoes laced I headed out of the front door and hung a left at the gate whilst Mo and Jo discreetly scarpered off to the right. A half mile warm-up over to the park, some drills and I headed off deciding where to do some sprint intervals. Sensing that something was missing, I glanced round. Where were Mo and Jo? Shirking their duties by the look of it. Typical.
They must be around somewhere. A few desultory intervals on grass and I was huffing and puffing, with my knuckles dragging the ground like Kevin the Teenager. Right better go do a few more on the tarmac path, maybe I will catch Mo and Jo there. Two intervals later and I was done, checking my watch to see if it was time to meet Alasdair at the entrance to the park.
If I walk very slowly I will get there at the agreed time.
Walking very slowly on sprint interval session, when you have barely managed to summon up anything close to a sprint is bad. A bad, bad thing. Had they been there, Mo and Jo would not have allowed it. Where were they?
A little whisper in my ear: Ice cream is good, but what about a nice cold glass of wine in that little bar next to the ice cream shop. How often have you said you should go in?
Voice in the other ear: No, no. no! You haven’t even done enough to justify the ice cream. Be good, run some more and settle for the ice cream.
My knuckles continue to drag along the ground in the general direction of the gate, and I know which voice is sounding more appealing.
I arrive before Alasdair.
Voice: Sit in the sun and wait.
Other voice: No run some more and meet him.
I jog down the hill and over the bridge. No sign of him. I walk back up the hill. There he is.
So, I was thinking we could have a glass of wine instead of the ice cream?
Or we could have both? He replies
That would be bad, I say.
Two glasses of Pinot Grigio blush and a large 99 with raspberry later I am ambling contentedly down the road, not caring at all where Mo and Jon had gone, or if they come back for that matter: focused and disciplined athlete that I am.
How does the song go? Baby did a bad, bad thing. But Oh, it was so good! What do they say? A little bit of what you fancy does you good.